Know Your Enemy

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I check what grows each day. I search for enemies that invade and attack. It might take a little time, but I sit and stare until the enemy reveals itself. Then I make an assault. Sometimes I let my Therd Eye collect relevant data before I make a move. Like I did with this guy. I don’t have a clue to its reason for squatting. Not yet anyway, but it’s beautiful. Such lovely colors.

There’s nothing lovely about the Black Hole. It tends to eat up time. It tends to swallow colors. It tried to disguise itself as depression. It forced me to learn the difference between it and the Big D. The Big S (Sadness) piggybacks Grief and Mourning, and it can fool you into thinking loss has triggered an Episode.

It happened to me. Having come so far, it was heavier than the Big D, and it felt different. Its colors were different. It had a different smell. This came:

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See? Cartoons aren’t always funny, but who said they had to be? I saw this one as The Swallow. Pun came on its own. Sadness is blue. Light blue. Depression can be a deep purple, aubergine, gray, black, or full red. Full red is “Danger, Willa Robinson! Get help!” I have learned to examine my funks. The trick is being aware, remembering to examine myself–like doing a breast self-exam. And yes, a prostate self-exam. It doesn’t hurt to ask for another opinion. I did. I asked O-Bird about the differences between sadness and depression. Before I was better I never examined sadness. Anything less than even or up was the dreaded valley. My sister passed on the 5th of May. I have been sinking since then, and . . . Wow. I have to go draw what I just saw. Yes, it’s a cartoon. And yes, it might be humorous, but you can’t tell if I don’t draw it. But . . . I cannot know for sure if what’s eating me is something as bad as this . .

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. . . or is as simple as this . . .

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. . . unless I check it out.

Be well.

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THE POINTER SISTERS

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Um . . . a friend saw this one and asked “Why are they called the pointer sisters?” Not snickering ’cause am not sure if I’ve posted this one before. If I did, and I have, it would be a lot like the pot calling the waffle iron aluminum. He-he.

Please, please, PLEASE, tell me you get it. You get the posters, too, right?

WARMTH

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I think I need a new scanner. My colors are more vibrant than they appear here. Hmm.

Speaking of art therapy? Was leaving when the tail feathers caught my eye, and I heard myself inside my head. “Oh, wow. O-Bird is right. Look at that!” And, so I did. I stopped and I looked with all of my attention focused, but not crazy-staring. And this is some of what I saw:

My world might look/feel/seem dark and dreary–sad and weary–but I am here. It shows in the colorful tail feathers. The sadness, pain, and all the other too-personal-to-mention-in-public stuff can’t be hidden. The tree is only sparsely leafed. The grass isn’t all that green. The flowers are respectfully carrying on. They feel me. The BERD that is this limner still cannot look the world in the eye, but it is functioning on a basic level. The horse hair blanket is appropriate. It hurts but offers warmth and a degree of comfort. It’s all here. Everything is here.